While The Sad Wind Goes
by Girl in a White Dress
Summary: [CSI Miami] Forever had lasted only three hours, and now she would never say his name again. [HoratioCalleigh]


Title: While The Sad Wind Goes

Author: Melanie-Anne

Email: melani_anne@yahoo.com 

Rating: PG

Archive: Anywhere, just ask.

Summary: Forever had lasted only three hours, and now she would never say his name again. [Horatio/Calleigh]

Disclaimer: The characters still don't belong to me ::sigh:: No infringement intended.

A/N: This plot bunny bit in the middle of the night and wouldn't let go (who needs sleep anyway? ::grin::) Standalone fic, not related to anything in my Kryptonite universe. WARNING: Major character death ahead—please don't hate me!!!

* * *

While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies 

I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me, 

my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running. 

So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes, 

and over our heads the grey light unwinds in turning fans.

My words rained over you, stroking you.

– Pablo Neruda, 'Every Day You Play'

* * *

Time slowed as Horatio walked into the room. Afterwards, he would retain vague impressions of his team; Speed looking out the window, Delko in a corner, Adele with tears in her eyes. Alexx rose from the bedside and turned to face him, her expression sorrowful.

Calleigh lay on the bed, half-covered by a sheet. Her hair was mussed, tangled on the pillow. Her head faced the center of the room, her eyes still open. Empty. Bruises marred her once-perfect skin: one high on her cheekbone, others on her wrists. Dark residue under her nails looked like blood.

She had not gone quietly.

Horatio reached out to cover her with the sheet, knowing she would have appreciated the gesture. No one stopped him; they were all still in shock. Horatio sank to his knees and took Calleigh's cold hand in his.

"Horatio," Alexx said, her voice thick with tears, "You'll contaminate the evidence."

He shook his head and expelled a deep, sad, sigh. "My DNA is already all over this bed."

The admission stunned the others into silence. It was no secret that Horatio and Calleigh had felt more for each other than mere friendship, but no one had suspected they had gone this far.

And the fact that they had added a new dimension to the case. There was the same question on everyone's minds, but no one could bring themselves to ask it.

"I left her just after midnight," Horatio said, his tone apologetic. "I should have stayed. She asked me to stay."

Alexx let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I'd estimate time of death at around three a.m."

"I should have stayed," Horatio repeated.

"Why don't you go home." Alexx's words were for Horatio's ears only. "We'll take care of her."

He raised tear-filled eyes to hers. She recognized the look; he was going to turn Calleigh into a crusade, just like his brother.

"I will find whoever did this," he said, silently adding, _and then I will kill him_.

Alexx looked across the room at Speed. She nodded once and he opened his field kit. Unofficially, he would take the lead on this case. Once the initial shock wore off, Horatio would most likely fall apart. Until they caught Calleigh's killer, they couldn't afford to let themselves grieve.

Delko began taking photographs. Horatio shut his eyes every time the flash went off. He tried to make himself see this as just another case, but he couldn't. Ten hours ago he had made love to Calleigh in this bed, and now it was a crime scene he had to process. Her eyes had sparkled in the moonlight, now they were blank and lifeless. Her warm, inviting lips were now cold and blue.

Ten hours ago he had been inside her as she murmured his name, had told her he loved her, that this was forever.

Forever had lasted only three hours, and now she would never say his name again.

He should have stayed, he thought. He would have protected her or he would have died trying. Either way, they would still be together.

* * *

Horatio couldn't bring himself to observe the autopsy. This wasn't just another victim, this was Calleigh; his life, his love. The thought of watching Alexx cut her open was too much to bear. He wanted to remember her as she had been in life, and thought about her smile, the gentle cadence of her laugh, the way she made his name sound like a caress. 

The last thing she had said to him was, 'Don't forget my coffee.' He hadn't; the now-cold cup was still in the ballistics lab where he'd been waiting for her when the call had come in.

Alexx came out and sat next to him. This was the hardest autopsy she had ever had to do. Calleigh was more than just a colleague, she was a friend. She had been so young and vibrant, had so much to live for. More than any of them had realized.

"She died of a broken neck. Whoever this guy was, she fought him hard. There's skin under her nails and she's got quite a collection of bruises. She wasn't raped." Alexx paused, unsure how to continue, wondering how her news would be received. This would hit him hardest of all, and there was no easy way to say it.

"She was pregnant."

Horatio looked up in surprise. "What?"

"Five weeks. I doubt she even knew."

"Calleigh was pregnant?" He digested the information slowly. "We were going to have a baby . . . oh . . . oh God . . ."

The knowledge was Horatio's undoing. He leaned forward, his head between his knees to quell the nausea. Alexx rubbed his back in slow circles.

"I'm sorry," she said, knowing there were no words to express how she truly felt.

When Horatio looked up again, his eyes were empty, those of a man who had lost everything. His voice was hard, cold. "Let's get her fingernail scrapings to trace."

"Already done," Alexx said. This was not the Horatio Caine she knew, this was a Miami Mad Max who had only one goal: to find and destroy the man who had killed Calleigh.

She had no doubt that he would, but the question remained: What then?

* * *

Evening came, with none of the anticipation the setting sun usually brought. Tonight, there would be no Calleigh for Horatio to hold, to kiss, to love. He should have stayed, he thought for the thousandth time. Now, alone in his office, he couldn't remember why he hadn't.

He would have been a father. A dad. He pictured a little girl with her mother's eyes, long blonde hair in pigtails down her back, smiling up at him. Or a son, who he could play catch with and teach how to ride a bike.

He should have stayed.

He was struck by a memory. A Sunday morning, he couldn't recall which one. He and Calleigh had slept in. Intending to make breakfast for her, he had stumbled upon a book of poetry. He'd slipped back into bed and woken her with words of love: _I go so far as to think that you own the universe. I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses,_ he'd read. _I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees._ When she'd smiled at him, he'd discarded the book and made love to her.

He should have stayed.

At around nine, Speed knocked on the door. "We got a match," he said.

Half an hour later, Horatio accompanied Adele and her officers to an ordinary-looking house in the suburbs. It belonged to James Henson, a parolee whose previous convictions included breaking and entering, and sexual assault. If Calleigh's neck hadn't been snapped during the struggle, Horatio had no doubt that James Henson would have raped her.

Adele knocked on the door, Horatio just behind her. He had been allowed to come on the condition that he said and did nothing. He had agreed, but he had no intention of abiding by the order. Henson had killed Calleigh; Henson had to pay.

When no one answered, an officer broke the door open. The house was dark. They split up, Adele going upstairs while Horatio checked downstairs. 

Henson was in the kitchen; his gun drawn and ready. There were four scratches on his cheek, proof enough for Horatio. 

__

I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

"Miami-Dade, PD," Horatio said and pulled out his own weapon.

The men fired, Horatio a split-second after Henson. He saw Henson drop his gun and fall to the ground, and only realized he was hit when someone told him to hang on.

He heard Calleigh's laughter and looked to his left. She stood there in a simple white dress, her hair loose the way he liked it, smiling at him.

"Hey there, Handsome. I missed you today."

"Calleigh." Her name left his lips in a prayer.

From far away, someone told him he was going to be okay. He wasn't listening; there was only Calleigh.

He needed to tell her about the baby, he needed to say he was sorry, but it was surprisingly difficult to speak. "Cal—"

"Shh," she said. "We have forever, remember."

"Forever."

Calleigh held out her hand for him to follow. He smiled, and reached for it.

From far away, a voice yelled for him to breathe.

He pulled Calleigh into an embrace and twirled her around, hugging her tight against his chest. She kissed him, tasting of cinnamon, smelling like sunshine.

"Let's get out of here," she said.

From far away, someone called his name.

Horatio nodded. "Where did you have in mind?"

* * *

The End


End file.
